


A Letter to Myself

by Piero217



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-03-20 20:01:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3663120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piero217/pseuds/Piero217
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Mitchell returns from Ba'al's execution, he receives a mysterious letter... from himself. This is my first one-shot. Fits into TFRR storyline.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Letter to Myself

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I actually thought of writing this one a while ago but hadn’t given myself the time to do it until now. This one-shot takes place within the established SG canon, but it can also fit into my FRR storyline. Enjoy!

“Welcome back, SG-1,” General Hank Landry said as soon as the legendary SG team stepped through the Stargate’s event horizon and walked down the ramp, followed by General Jack O’Neill and SG-3.

“Thank you, sir,” Cameron Mitchell replied. “Sorry you missed the show.”

“I imagine it was… breathtaking,” Landry said in the same sarcastic tone as Mitchell.

“You have no idea.”

“Well, while you were gone, we received a letter for you,” Landry said, handing Mitchell an old-looking—a _really_ old-looking—envelope. “Apparently, whoever sent it gave specific instructions to give it to you immediately after you came back from ‘ol’ B’s’ execution. Sender’s words, not mine.”

Mitchell frowned in confusion. “And who’s the sender?”

“A guy named John Shaft.”

“Like the guy from the detective novel?”

“Yeah, only that this John Shaft wrote that letter back in 1939, according to the post office.”

Mitchell felt his jaw drop, and his gaze met Landry’s. So that was either a tremendous coincidence, or something else was going on here. And then it hit him. _Shaft._ That had been his call sign back when he was a pilot, way before joining SG-1. Someone knew that name would ring a bell—someone from 1939.

“I imagine you’d like to read that as soon as possible,” Landry said.

“Yes, sir,” was all Mitchell was able to say.

* * *

A while later, after leaving his gear in the armory and taking a shower to relax himself, he picked up the letter from his locker and sat on one of the benches in the locker room. No wonder it looked so old; it had been gathering dust in a post office shelf for almost 70 years. He turned it this way and that for a while, desperately wanting to read its contents but also wondering who could’ve sent it.

He finally slipped his finger under the lid and forced the envelope open. Inside was a single page with writing on only one of its sides. He pulled the sheet of paper and tossed the envelope aside while he unfolded it.

The first thing he noticed was that there was no greeting. The top right corner of the letter only included the data when it was written, and then it went on with the rest. The first paragraph read:

_Trust me when I tell you that I’ve been staring at this thing for hours, trying to find an appropriate greeting, but I think that “Hey, me” would sound way too weird. So, I guess I’ll just say hey and get on with it._

_Hey, me._ Yeah, that did sound really odd. He kept reading.

_In case the Back-to-the-Future-like method of delivery wasn’t enough of a hint, I’ll tell you right now that this letter is from a time traveler. I suppose Teal’c would be saying “indeed” if he were the one reading it. Man, I miss him. I miss all of them._

Some of the letters were smudgy, and only now did Mitchell notice that the paper was creased where tears had apparently fallen.

_Anyway, before I get any more sentimental, I only want to say that if you’re reading this (and I’m sure you are), then things are now as they should be. And also let me add that you don’t have to worry about Ba’al anymore. You should’ve seen the look on his face when I shot him right between the eye sockets! He was like, “What are you doing here?!” By the way, you might wanna take the team to a planet called Praxyon. I think you’ll find it really interesting. Sorry I can’t give you a gate address, though. Teal’c was the one who knew where it was, but I don’t think he does anymore. Still, ask him. Might be worth a shot._

What did all this mean? Had Ba’al gone back in time?

_If you’re still wondering who’s the one writing all of this, let me just ask you something. Remember that time when you and Carter were out of phase and you told her that all you needed was a good time-travel adventure and you would've scored the SG-1 trifecta? Well, congratulations; you just have._

Mitchell’s heart skipped a beat. _Hey, me._ That made a lot more sense now, even though it didn’t make it any less weird.

_I can’t tell you much without giving you one hell of a headache, so I’ll just give you the highlights. Ba’al tried to change the timeline; Carter, Jackson, and I ended up in a completely nutty time line where ol’ B had become the boss; he came to Earth to invade it and got himself killed by Qetesh; Teal’s helped us stop her from screwing the future any further. Sadly, all three of them died before that, and I ended up going back in time ten years before Ba’al showed up on Grandpa’s ship and tried to destroy the gate. (If you can find the device in Praxyon, I’m sure Sam will be able to explain how.) I had a pig of a job getting ready for it during that time, but I managed to do it. With some help. If he keeps his word, I’m sure Grandpa will’ve told the story of the stowaway who looked a lot like him when showing everyone the picture of him standing beside his ship in Boston Harbor with another handsome-looking guy._

Mitchell chuckled. That was exactly the story his grandfather had told for years. So it had been him all along.

_I can’t tell you enough how much I’ve missed the team. I watched them all die. All but Teal’c, but since he didn’t follow me when I went through the gate, I can only assume that he’s gone too. I keep remembering how much Sam said that time travel was dangerous. That’s why I’ve lived as isolated from everyone as possible, just trying to survive long enough for this to work. Now that it’s done, I don’t know what to do. Grandpa (I still can’t get my head around that; we’re basically the same age) has offered to help me settle down somewhere as far away from society as possible. I think I could take him up on his offer, but I don’t know how much that will affect our family’s timeline. So, I guess I’ll just have to live as any other homeless guy does and hope that my actions don’t have much of an impact in the future. Might even get myself a street dog._

He could only imagine how hard that must’ve been for… well, him.

_I thought I’d have more to tell you, but I think that’s about it. Take care of the team for me, would ya? Oh, and say hi to the crew of the Odyssey for me as well. I also miss my boys._

He scoffed. Being in command of the _Odyssey_ had certainly not been Mitchell’s choice. But after Sam had been reassigned to Atlantis, the rest of the team suddenly seemed to have more important things to do, and so he’d taken General O’Neill’s offer. Oh, he enjoyed being in charge of the ship that had seen the end of their war with the Ori—the ship that held the legacy of the Asgard. But he’d rather be back on the ground with SG-1, stepping through the gate and into the unknown.

_You may not be too happy now about your new assignment as commander of the ship, but at least try to enjoy it. Hell, I’d give anything to see them right now. Nick, Alice…_

It was as if his mind was being read. Then again, _he_ had written that letter. Sort of.

_Please, make this trip to the past worth it. Ba’al may be gone for good, but there are still other threats out there. There will always be. So keep us all safe. And be safe yourself. P.S.: Marry Amy Vandenberg. I’m dead serious here._

Those were the last words in the letter.

* * *

A while later, Daniel and Teal’c came out of the showers and got dressed up. By now, Mitchell had already read that letter about three times over and felt a whole lot of emotions while doing so. Now it was safe inside of his locker—along with the picture of his grandfather.

“What do you think Ba'al was talking about when he said, ‘You've all made a terrible mistake’?” Daniel asked, bringing Mitchell back to the here and now.

“We shall never know,” Teal’c replied. But Mitchell knew.

“I know I ain’t gonna worry about it,” he said. _Not anymore._

“I was just thinking, what if he really wasn't the last one?” Daniel continued.

“He was the last one,” Mitchell replied matter-of-factly.

“As far as we know,” Daniel insisted.

“Yeah, as far as we know, but you can't obsess about this stuff.” He could’ve told them about the letter. He probably would. Just not right now.

“Yeah, you're probably right,” Daniel finally conceded.

“I know I am.” _Now more than ever._ “Come on, let's go. When was the last time General O'Neill bought lunch?”

“Good point,” Daniel said excitedly. And as Mitchell slammed the door of his locker shut and all three of them walked away, he added, “By the way, what’s with the mystery letter you got?”

Mitchell smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I hope you enjoyed this short one-shot. I sure did enjoy writing it.
> 
> Don’t forget to review on your way out!


End file.
